Chapter 28
Tehvan
Tehvan sat at his desk, his fingers restless against its worn surface.
The dim candlelight in his office cast long shadows across the wooden walls, stretching across the stacks of books and half-finished letters littering his desk.
Outside, the wind howled softly against the old stone of the Institute, a hollow sound, restless and unrelenting, just like the thoughts running through his mind.
His hand drifted to the ring on his finger, thumb spinning it in quick, nervous rotations. The metal was cool against his skin, a contrast to the heat churning inside him. Through it, he could feel her heartbeat. It was steady, but too quick. Still shaken. Still afraid.
He rubbed his hands across his face, trying to wipe away the feeling of failure seeping into his very pores. I should have known.
Gerard had hurt her. He hadn’t stopped him. Because he hadn’t expected it, he committed an unforgivable sin. He should have. He knew how much of a monster Gerard was.
He should have stopped it before it happened. He had put so much effort into protecting her, shaping their escape, but what did any of it matter if he had left her vulnerable to him?
His hands balled up, and he slammed them down on his desk, the candle flame fluttering from the force. He needed to get her out of here. Soon. He didn’t want to imagine what more might happen in the next week; what else they would take from her before he could get her somewhere safe.
A sharp creak cut through his thoughts. The door.
He didn’t lift his head. Didn’t have to. He already knew who it was.
Professor Sadia stepped inside. She had twisted her gray curls into a tight bun, and a long floral robe enveloped her dainty form. Comfortable. How is she so relaxed right now? She sat in the seat opposite him, without hesitation, without invitation, hands folded neatly in her lap.
“Elora made it back to the ward’s quarters,” she said, as if that was what mattered most. As if that fixed anything.
Tehvan exhaled slowly through his nose, his grip on the ring tightening.
She was there. In the woods. She witnessed what Gerard had done. And she hadn’t stopped him.
“Is that all you came to say?” His voice was steady now, even. But something dark had settled beneath the words.
Sadia cocked her head slightly, watching him. “You blame me.”
“How could you just stand there?” His voice broke, raw with anger, guilt, helplessness, all twisting together like a blade in his chest. “Why did you watch and do nothing?”
Sadia didn’t flinch. Her gaze was steady, like that of a woman confident in her reasoning. “And what should I have done?” she asked simply.
Tehvan tried to speak, but no answer came. He wanted to say stop him, intervene, fight back, but the words felt childish, na?ve, even to him.
Sadia leaned forward, her voice softer now, but no less sharp. “There was nothing I could do,” she said. “Not without putting her in more danger.”
He didn’t want to hear that. He shifted his attention from her, focusing on the papers spread out on his desk, avoiding the truth in her eyes.
“It’s hard to accept,” Sadia continued, “but you know as well as I do—by Abernathy’s standards, by the Empire’s standards—Gerard did nothing wrong.”
Tehvan squeezed his eyes shut for half a second, shaking his head. Nothing wrong.
“She’s a ward,” Sadia pressed, her tone matter-of-fact, but edged with a hint of regret. “The only reason she’s still breathing after failing the trials is because wards serve two purposes: maintaining the Institute and entertaining the guards.”
He knew this. Of course he did. It was his damn family that created the Institutes.
His family that suggested keeping the unsuccessful students to repurpose them.
It was mercy; they said. Everything was already in place before he was born.
He couldn’t change the ‘proven’ methods of the Thorn Family.
And yet, he had turned a blind eye.
He had hoped—stupidly, desperately hoped—that he could get Elora out before she fell victim to the worst depravity this place offered. That if he moved carefully enough, if he played the right hand at the right time, he might protect her from this fate.
But hope was a fool’s luxury.
His posture slumped, exhaustion pressing down on him. His anger wasn’t for Sadia. Not really.
It was for Abernathy. For Gerard. For his family. For the Empire, that let this happen, over and over again. It was for himself, for knowing all of this and still pretending he could win.
Tehvan let out a slow breath, forcing his hands to unclench. “I know,” he murmured. “You’re right.” The admission tasted bitter.
Sadia studied him thoughtfully, then nodded.
He swallowed hard, his voice quieter now. “Thank you. For helping her. At least someone was able to.”
Sadia sighed, shifting in her chair. The leather creaked under her. “Why did you come to my room earlier?”
Tehvan rubbed the back of his skull, fingers pressing hard into tense muscles. His shoulders drooped further. This conversation would not help.
Wordlessly, he reached into his coat and pulled out a folded letter, sliding it across the desk. The golden wax seal gleamed against the aged parchment; the imprint of a bee pressed into its surface. Sadia hesitated before taking it, her fingertips brushing over the seal as she unfolded the letter.
Tehvan sat silently, waiting for what he knew would come.
Then—
A sharp inhale.
Sadia’s hand flew to her mouth. “Analise is dead?” The words came out unsteady, breathless. “How?”
Tehvan didn’t meet her eyes. He shook his head, though it felt too heavy to move. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to know.”
She scanned the letter again as if she had misread it, as if the message might change if she looked hard enough.
“Do you think Abernathy had something to do with it?”
At that, Tehvan’s head lifted. “No,” he said without hesitation. “If he was going to use my wife against me, he would have already.”
The candlelight flickered between them, casting a wavering glow over her face. After a pause, she asked carefully, “Are you going to stop in Aszona before you leave for Al’tera? See if there’s anything you can do—”
“No.” The word was sharp, final. He cut her off before she could finish. “If it wasn’t an accident, her colleagues will avenge her.” His jaw tightened. “I can’t let this distract me.”
Sadia watched him, her gaze dancing across his face, trying to understand him. But she didn’t argue. Instead, she folded the letter back up and set it down between them.
Tehvan exhaled, his fingers clenching and unclenching before he gripped the ring once more, pressing it between his thumb and forefinger. The faint, steady rhythm of Elora’s heartbeat pulsed upon his skin.
“I loved her,” he murmured, barely above a whisper. The words lodged in his throat, heavier than he expected. “But she’s gone. Has been for years.”
He looked at Sadia then, and now there was no anger left in his eyes. Just exhaustion. Just resolve.
“Elora isn’t.”
She needed him. Now more than ever.
There would be time to grieve Analise.
But not right now.